Letting Go
by SilverSmile
Summary: A decision has been made and John and Sherlock find their paths in life separating. Three one-shots: what happens in the the past, a chance meeting in the future and their last goodbye. Sometimes love isn't enough to keep lovers together in life.
1. Past

Again with the prompts :)

This was the same prompt, but done twice at different stages of John and Sherlocks relationship.

**Warning** for slightly graphic gay sex.

Disclaimer: Character's aren't mine.

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**Letting Go - past**

Sherlock pushed John roughly against his bedroom door, lips pressed together harshly as desperation tinged every moment they made.

Even though Sherlock had known it was coming, he'd been unable to actually prepare himself for the hurt and pain that assaulted him at John's announcement two weeks ago.

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"I've asked Sarah to marry me. She's pregnant and I can't make her look after the baby alone." John had said as he sat across Sherlock at their restaurant, the lights of passing cars shinning in through the window and winked in a mocking may off the crockery.

"I see." What else could Sherlock say?

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John let out a low moan as Sherlock pulled off his shirt before pushing him into the room and down onto the bed.

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"You know, they have many programs and support groups for single mother's these days. It's the 21st century, not the Victorian Era." Sherlock couldn't keep some of the bite from his words.

"I know that. But, well, I know I can grow to love Sarah and I've always wanted a family." John countered, truing to keep his temper under control.

"There is adoption and many other ways to obtain a child, John." Sherlock snorted.

"See, there's the problem Sherlock. You don't want kids and I'm not going to raise one by myself." John got to his feet furiously, the tight seal he had on his temper breaking.

"I'm going to marry Sarah and we will have this child and maybe more together. We're moving out of London, to the country where our kid can grow-up with fresh air. If you can't support me in this then it's best you stay away." With that John swept out of the restaurant, leaving Sherlock alone at the table.

That had been two weeks ago. They rushed to remove the remainder of their clothing, only stopping to lock eyes once they were completely nude. Flesh against flesh, heartbeat against heartbeat, soul against soul.

Tonight John had shown up on their doorstep – now only Sherlock's doorstep. As soon as they'd reached the privacy of their own flat – Sherlock's flat – Sherlock had taken John's hand and led him towards Sherlock's bedroom – no words were exchanged at all.

That was how they'd ended up on the bed, naked and bare to one another.

Sherlock leaned back down and kissed John again, though this time it was slow and conveyed everything John needed to hear.

_'I missed you.'_

Reaching up, John cupped Sherlock's cheek, his eyes talking for him.

_'I'm sorry.'_

Sherlock tried not to allow the burning tears in his eyes to fall as he went back to kissing John's throat as his hands worked their way down the smaller man's body, tracing and memorising every dip and scare – committing the body below him to memory as a bitter part of him snarled that he'd once thought such an action would be unnecessary. He'd once believed he'd never have to worry about a time where John wasn't a hairs-breath away…

As Sherlock worked John open for him, he felt a tragic acceptance for what was to come slowly fill him. Pushing inside of John with as much gentleness and care as he had done the very first time, Sherlock silently told John he'd let him go.

The breathless sigh that escaped from John's throat showed his gratitude.

_'Thank you.'_

Sherlock thrust into the willing and trusting man below him and if they both allowed their tears to fall and mix in with the sweat of their lovemaking, neither of them would ever say.

As they both came at the same time, hands grasped tightly and fingers intertwined, only three words passed between them.

_'I love you.'_

Later, when they'd crashed back down to earth and harsh realities, John stood silently dressing, Sherlock opting to remain on the now soiled bed sheets.

"I'll see you later Sherlock, yeah?"

Even though it was phrased as a question, once again both heard what was really being said.

John stood looking at Sherlock on the bed for a moment longer than necessary before turning and walking out the door, out of the flat and out of his life.

Only one word remained unsaid between them.

_'Goodbye.'_

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	2. Future

So here is the second part of it, set **many** years later.

This honestly made me rather say :( unfulfilled love and missed opportunities are always so tragic. It's interesting to think that so much time passes, and yet some things just stay the same as they were the first time.

Disclaimer: Character's aren't mine.

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**Letting Go - future**

It happened, as many things in life did, by chance.

John had been in London to meet his son's future parents-in-law and Sherlock was lost in thoughts of yet another successfully completed case. They had literally bumped into one another on the street sidewalk. They'd exchanged the usual pleasantries one does with someone you have a large history with but haven't seen in years.

Then Sherlock had asked John to dinner, to 'catch-up' even though both had silently kept track of the other for all these years. John had accepted and before they knew it they'd found themselves back in the small restaurant where they'd shared their first meal together – or rather John had eaten and Sherlock snipped. It had a new owner now and the crockery had changed, but they still managed to get the seat by the window and that was enough.

Conversation died once they'd ordered and been left alone.

"So… how are investigating crime scenes going?" John asked: voice tinted with wistful amusement.

Through the words, Sherlock heard what John was really saying.

_'I've missed you.'_

"They're still as incompetent as ever. Doesn't matter who's in charge." Sherlock snorted dismissively.

John laughed quietly, but didn't comment that Sherlock probably caused just as many problems as he helped fix, so of cause they'd be less then forthcoming with him.

"How is Sarah?" Sherlock asked, clearly uncomfortable as he recalled he'd been a major factor between John and Sarah coming together.

"She's good. We're actually in town to meet Samuel – our second eldest son's – fiancé's parents." John smiled softly, saying he understood Sherlock's unease.

"Oh? I imagine they'll be distraught at having to give up their darling daughter." Sherlock couldn't keep some of the old aloofness from his voice.

"Well, I imagine they will be, though Joe is their baby boy so there's bound to be some attachment there as well."

There was a beat of amused silence before Sherlock cursed.

"Samuel's gay?" He asked, clearly surprised.

"Bisexual actually. I imagine when you read the name Joe you thought it was short for Joanne rather than Joseph. I would have thought you'd learned your lesson years ago with my sister." Fond amusement filled John's voice.

"Yes, well, I couldn't very well demand pictures and such, could I?" Sherlock said in a completely indifferent way, though the look in his eyes told John everything.

_'I'm sorry.'_

"No, I don't suppose that would have been a good idea for anyone at the time." John agreed gently.

The sombre mood was broken as their food arrived and they began to eat, sharing forgotten memories of days long past.

As they finished their food, John sighed and leaned back comfortably in his chair, eyes resting on Sherlock, ghosts of tender emotion swimming in his eyes.

"We did have some grand adventures, didn't we?" Sherlock said softly.

"Well, I was certainly never bored, that's for sure." John chuckled, Sherlock hearing the silent words again.

_'Thank you.'_

A sudden beeping caused John to pull out his mobile, checking the message quickly as a mixture of emotions flickered over his face as his eyes landed on Sherlock again.

"I'm afraid I've got to go. Joe's parents are to arrive at Samuel's flat in twenty minutes and Sarah will have my head if I'm late." He smiled good humouredly as he pushed back his chair in preparation to stand.

However, Sherlock suddenly reached across the table and gripped John's hand that still rested against the wooden surface. John froze before flipping over his hand and interlocking their fingers, both holding on so tightly it almost hurt.

The words passed silently between them.

_'I still love you.'_

"It was lovely to see you again, John." Sherlock said in his usual way, as if their hands weren't clinging to one another for dear life.

"Yes, we must have lunch again soon. It's been far too long." John agreed.

They stayed silent a moment longer, eyes locked and hands tightly grasped, before they – as one – slowly pulled away. John stood and replaced his coat, fiddling with the ties before giving it up as a lost cause. Placing his hat on his head, he spared Sherlock one last glance, but the other man stared out the window as if he wasn't even aware John was still there.

"Till next time, Sherlock."

They both didn't say anything more, their ability to hear what wasn't said telling them exactly what the other was really saying.

As John Watson left Sherlock Holmes at the table for the second time, one final word deafened them both.

_'Goodbye.'_

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	3. Postfuture

I wasn't planning on doing another chapter of this, but an annonomus reviewer by the name of Ash asked for one and the scene at the end of this little bit popped into my head so I thought I'd put it up.

This is just a short little bit, quite rough so I might go back and edit it again later.

I tried to make it happy, and it is, if you squint and tilt your head to the right...

Disclaimer: Character's are not mine.

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**Letting Go - post-future**

He walked quietly down the familiar hallway, paying no mind to the various families seated around him. Reaching the door he stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. The room was sparse like all hospital rooms were, nothing save a plain white bed, an uncomfortable plastic chair and various beeping machines.

His shoes clicked lightly upon the sterile floor as he approached the bed and the elderly man laying in it, various wires connected to him.

"I had wondered if you would turn up." The voice was old and slightly scratchy, but Sherlock could still hear the echo of the past within its even tones.

"You couldn't have kept me away if you'd tried." He said sitting himself down in the uncomfortable chair.

A smile stretched across John's face, defining the wrinkles now present

"No, I don't suppose I could." He agreed, their world-wary eyes meeting and silently exchanging the words they'd never needed to say aloud.

'_I've missed you.'_

John let out a small moan of discomfort as he shifted before sighing in annoyance.

"Turn all this rubbish off, would you Sherlock?" He gestured to the beeping machines around him.

"They're keeping you alive, John." Sherlock raised his eyebrows.

"I'm going to die irrespective. Now, shut them off so I'm not stuck with the beeping in my ears for all eternity."

Sherlock scoffed at the religious reference – after all, there was little scientific proof of an after life – before complying and standing to turn off the various contraptions. He then carefully removed the cords and such from John's person. Walking over, he opened the curtains wide so that the late afternoons sunshine could illuminate the room.

John hissed slightly at the sudden bright light, but a brush of Sherlock's fingers over his blanket covered legs made him relax again.

'_I'm sorry.'_

Sherlock once again seated himself on the chair and he looked down at John as if they were still young, still high on life and believing themselves invincible to death.

It was a sad look.

"Any regrets?" Sherlock asked softly, a self-mocking smile twitching at his lips.

"You're here, what is there to regret?" John said softly, causing Sherlock's eyes to widen slightly. He reached out and took Johns hand in his own, squeezing gently and getting a weak return of pressure.

"You always were slightly dramatic."

"Must be why we got along so well." John's smile matched Sherlock's.

Another squeeze of their clasped hands.

'_I've always loved you.'_

"Not long now," John said softly, his breathing slowing with his heart, as his eyes grew heavy.

"I'll be right behind you." Sherlock promised, holding the hand tighter as he watched John fading away.

"I'll wait for you."

"No more goodbyes." Sherlock shifted so he was lying on the bed with John, their hands still clasped.

"No… together for eternity." John sighed out before he went still and silent, a peaceful look on his face.

"Together." Sherlock whispered as he pressed a kiss to John's head and laid his own down, closing his eyes and finally allowing his body to give in and rest.

In the silence of the room the only sound was the sunbeams dancing over the two still forms on the bed. Their silent words no longer needed as they're never again have to say –

'_Goodbye_.'

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Please review.


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